


What Post?

by vecchiofastidioso



Series: Excerpts From a Bard's Life [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vecchiofastidioso/pseuds/vecchiofastidioso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke has unending post, and Varric has other problems. If you can deal with two things at once, why not? Nsfw for brief sexual content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Post?

         The post was simply unending. Invitations to parties, requests for help. The letters of thanks were nice, as were the occasional packages. But Aubrey was growing a little frustrated as she sat at the desk in the downstairs half of her study, doggedly working through replies. Polite refusals of invitations. Thanks for gifts. Responses to letters from Lothering.  
         That was the scene that greeted Varric when he wandered into the study after meeting with his contacts. For Aubrey's sake and the sake of her friendship with Anders, he made sure the Coterie and other Undercity gangs were leaving the apostate alone, which meant periodically making sure the fees were paid. Ah, but he didn't like coming back to see his Freckles so tired like this.  
         "So...fun-filled evening you have going here."  
         Aubrey looked up and smiled, setting aside her pen to rise and give her favourite Dwarf a fond kiss. "Oh yes. Very exciting. Whatever will happen with these papers waiting for my replies?" the redhead joked.  
         Which gave Varric an idea. A very wicked idea. One that brought a familiar smirk to his face and made Aubrey bite her lip as she wondered what he was getting her into this time...

         Hawke hadn't visited his clinic that day as she usually did. Worried, Anders let himself into the front hall of the Hawke estate and knocked at the inner door politely. "Good to see you, Messere!" Bodahn exclaimed with a smile as he let the mage into the grand hall. "Are you here to see Messere Hawke?"  
         "Is she in?" Anders smiled as he propped his staff up against the wall. "I haven't seen her today."  
         "She is in the study, Messere, answering some letters. Shall I let her know you're here?"  
         The mage shook his head with a vague gesture. "No, it's alright. I can announce myself." Would Hawke be pleasantly surprised to see him? Or maybe she had fallen asleep at her desk. She _did_ seem to be a little tired lately. These thoughts and more flitted through the healer's mind as he pushed open the heavy oaken door.  
         Papers lay scattered on the floor, a few floating along at the opening of the door. There was a black pool on the stone flooring--ink, not dried blood--and the chair wasn't occupied by Hawke. No, she was...er...she was...  
         Before Anders' eyes, the ginger was perched on top of the desk. Her tunic was partially undone and breasts were spilling out heavily over the top of her corset, nipples reddened and swollen from biting and suckling. Her legs were bare, and toes curling with a moan as she tossed back her head. A _very_ familiar-looking, striped length of cloth was being used as a blindfold, and was draped over her shoulder and down her back.  
         She moaned because an _exceedingly_ familiar blond man was currently buried between her thighs. Anders recognised that head Aubrey's hand was gripping, that broad set of shoulders supporting her quivering legs. It was almost hypnotising in a morbid way (to Anders) to watch as strong hands that could oh-so-delicately adjust Bianca or pick a lock slid up pale, freckled legs, drawing generous hips closer on a feminine cry of pleasure. It was only a few seconds, but Anders was riveted in the doorway as Aubrey's voice grew more breathy and higher-pitched in her whimpers, her body arching and trembling, until she let out a loud cry of her lover's name just as the mage hastily backed out and shut the door.  
          _Andraste's knickerweasels!_

         Varric had known damned well someone was at the door. He knew the moment Blondie stepped in. What sort of devious, roguish merchant prince would he be if he hadn't? Varric had lived this long because of his wit, cunning, reflexes, and senses. He just didn't give a damn if Anders saw. Hell, he _wanted_ Anders to see. See who Aubrey was with, who she moaned for, who she longed for. Freckles would be mortified if she ever knew, but the Dwarf suspected the mage wouldn't say a word. The point had been made.  
         Gently, the Dwarf licked up his lover's slick folds as she trembled and sighed. So beautiful. His gorgeous Freckles. His strong Hawke. There was no need to ask if she felt good, if she had liked that. It was written all over Aubrey's face, and was in the way she cuddled against him as the Dwarf pulled his woman into his lap. It brought a smug smile to his face, and one large hand cupped Aubrey's cheek fondly.  
         "I love you, Freckles," Varric murmured softly. His precious Freckles. Greatest treasure he ever had.  
         "Mmm...love you too..." Aubrey didn't bother with removing the blindfold of Varric's sash, though he gently removed it for he. She was too bonelessly happy at that point to worry about it. Too content with nestling her head against her love's shoulder while in the distance, the front door closed.


End file.
